May 1, 2012 § 3 Comments
It’s Tuesday. So I think I’ll share one of my favorite stories. And by “favorite”, I mean one of my most disturbing but sadly not surprising stories.
Lots of restaurants do a “Taco Tuesday” special. You can find them all over the country. That’s great if you’re a taco lover. (Which, I fully admit, sounds dirty itself)
One afternoon, I’m talking to my client. He and I had known each other for years. We have fairly open conversations.
This particular afternoon, he’d had a couple of cocktails. I’m guessing he was a few sheets to the wind. Generally I will not work on people with any alcohol in their system, but because of your long term relationship and because I understand his body so well, I wasn’t too worried about it. I know exactly what his body can deal with in a massage.
So we’re working and chatting. He was especially chatty given the loose lips nature of boozing it up. He asks about my week. I tell him I’d been to Taco Tuesday a couple of days before.
“Ohhhhhh…. Taco Tuesday. That sounds like fun. Good tacos?”
“Yeah. It’s a family favorite and I don’t have to cook.”
“Well, the guys at the party last night were talking about Taco Tuesday too. But not that Taco Tuesday.”
*Pause. Consider where this is going and if I want to follow. Oh, what the hell.*
“Really? What Taco Tuesday were the talking about?”
And so he tells me. He tells me how they were all sharing the names of the websites they use to choose tacos. To choose pink tacos. Nope, not the restaurant chain. To choose the “adult companions” they want based on their vagina. Based on a photo on a website. And how proud they all were as they shared their secret stash. And which tacos were their favorite. They were giving recommendations. That this is how they celebrate Taco Tuesday.
Without skipping a beat I told him “Well, I at least they know exactly what they’re getting.”
I’m sure their mothers and wives would be so damn proud.